Nightmares never bothered me, at least, not the ones that come to you in your sleep. I always seemed to know it wasn't real, it couldn't hurt me. I didn't know there was another kind of nightmare; a real nightmare that could, would, hurt me. A nightmare that you can't escape, that consumes you, its grip only tightening, never relenting. A living nightmare with no end in sight.
***
Hands grip at my body, pulling blankets off of me. Cold air hits my bare legs, pricking my skin. Voices swarm around my head, but nothing comprehendible. I force my eyes open, trying to blink away the darkness. Sleep still weighs me down as the darkness slowly fades, only to be met with a lighter sort of darkness. My senses fail me as I grip the sheets below me. My body heat has already left them, making them cold as well. Everything seems to be cold.
The voices continue to pound on my ears, in my head, and I still can't make out what they are saying. In a panic, my eyes dart around, finding that I'm in my bedroom. Candles are the only source of light, plaguing shadows across the room.
"Miss," the voices say, my mind finally understanding. "Miss, we need to go." My eyes skirt to the owner of the voice, my ladies pulling the covers off of my body, helping me out of bed. One of them holds a robe, waiting to dress me.
"What-" I begin, but am abruptly cut off.
"There's no time for questions now, ma'am," she says, helping me into the robe. The silk is cold, too. I wrap it tightly around my body, hiding my crimson nightgown. "Come with us."
I open my mouth to say something, to ask more questions, to demand to be told what is happening, but nothing escapes my throat.
The arms of my three ladies pull me out of my room, into the torch-lit hall. The feeling of the red carpet under my bare feet brings back memories of my childhood, running through the halls past bedtime, my giggles echoing off the stone walls. Now, the only noise ringing off the walls is our quick footsteps. No laughter, no light.
"Where's Maeve?" I ask, searching for my head lady in waiting, my friend.
"She'll be there, miss. Just, please, hurry."
Everything around me blurs, my head still heavy with sleep, as we climb a staircase, round many corners, passing large windows struck with rainfall, almost like tears, until we end up in front of the wooden doors leading to my father's study. The dark oak looms before me, taunting me to enter.
"We can't go-" my frantic words are cut off by the doors groaning open. The room, more well lit than any other in the castle, pierces my eyes. It takes a moment for my gaze to settle, just as I am being pulled inside.
The desk against the back wall is cluttered, nothing out of place, our family portrait hanging above it. I stare up at my mother and father's faces before a voice pierces the silence of the room.
"Princess Cassandra," they say, tearing my gaze away, toward the table on the other wall. My eyes skirt from the people standing around it, to the paper spread across it, back to the voice that addressed me by name. The man before me, dressed in formal military wear, with dark hair, coiled in a short puff above his head, and skin as dark as night, holds a letter in his hand, an unreadable expression on his face. The woman standing around him—maids, Maeve among them—some crying, some staring at their feet, stay silent.
"Who are you? What is this?" My stomach drops at the words, preparing for any outcome.
"General Ronan Alios, commander of the Southern Army, Your Highness," the man says, his voice gruff as he bends over in a quick bow. He looks like he could be the same age as my father, yet something about him screams that he's younger, simply having seen too much for his time. "I'm afraid I have news of King Emerest and Queen Zara's expedition to Saunin." I feel myself pale as he walks toward me, handing me the letter.
"What happened?" I choke, barely able to tear my gaze from the parchment in my hand, the seal on the back ocean blue with the royal family's emblem--a larkspur flower with a single banner intertwined around the stem--to the man before me.
"The Royal carriage was ambushed, ma'am. The entirety of the guard was killed. Their majesties didn't make it."
The words hit me like a million daggers, pressing into my body, into my heart. Breaths leave my lungs and my heartbeats skip.
"When the carriage was recovered, there was no sign of the attackers..."
Words blend into mumbles, and mumbles into noises, and noises into nothing. My body sways, making me outstretch my hand to hold onto the table. Fuzzy moments pass, and suddenly, I am on the floor.
————
hello everyone! welcome to the first chapter of tpoad! i'm so beyond excited and i hope you guys like it so far! let me know if you do<3
i will also be updating every wednesday:) see you all soon,
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The Point of A Dagger
FantasyNothing could have prepared her for what was coming, or what she would have to do. --- ❝𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭. 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝...